A picture is beginning to surface after the terrible and terrifying terror incident Christmas Day on Northwest Airlines Flight 253. And that picture is of a badly scarred and hopelessly singed pair of underpants, used to hold an explosive destined for freedom loving Americans.

Now, a week later, the media asks why.

“What is most alarming about the incident,” notes gonzo journalist Bill O’Reilly, “is that the underpants appear to be American in origin, from a wealthy family” though BBC investigators have now found the underpants were educated abroad after a long bout of silent depression.

Others yet claim the problem of terrorism can only be solved by looking to the problems of America, not abroad, and that if domestic policy were adapted, we might eliminate the terrorists’ motives for attacking in the first place.

This opinion seems to ring true in this particular case, as a source close to the Underpants Bomber revealed in an exclusive interview with Miso Funny that the troubled young terrorist had been furious when Northwest Airlines announced they would no longer be serving roasted nuts on flights.

“He said something rash would have to be done, that a man had to make his own way in the world and that he would have to bring his own, in that case” says the source, describing the Underpants Bomber’s growing frustration with what he called “the system.”

It leaves you wondering what kind of security measures they’ll have to put in place should Yankee Stadium ever threaten to stop serving charred wieners.

– Chicky Wing, reporting from Detroit

]]>2thechickywinghttps://misofunny.wordpress.comhttp://misofunny.wordpress.com/?p=112010-01-03T19:45:42Z2010-01-03T19:26:27ZGranted, Brokeback Mountain was an inspiration to millions of American housewives who for years had hoped for a film with just the right combination of Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal to make them accept gays. But this torrid romance, touted by that rag, the New York Times, as a “landmark” that unmasked “the homoerotic strain in American culture,” comes 24 years after the first and still most relevant film ever made about homosexuality in America: Top Gun.

Now, now, I know what some of you are thinking: Maverick and Ice Man are just enemies, enemies who deal with their animosity by breathing hard into each others’ mouths in the most appropriate venue for open conflict on a military base: a steamy locker room. That is, until they become friends, friends who show their masculine friendship by greasing themselves up for both-teams-shirtless volleyball.

Is it also just coincidence that the one time Maverick finally sleeps with his “girlfriend” (suspiciously named Charlie) is after she slips into Ice Man’s uniform and takes a bath in Aqua Velva? If you believe that, you probably also believe your boyfriend’s story that he only had a hard-on from wearing your panties because it reminded him of you, idiot.

The point is, one must give credit where credit is due, and praise Top Gun as the first in what was to be a series of gay-affirming films by director Tony Scott. Consider the gaping hole homosexual culture would have in it were it not for Scott’s unique insight and sensitivity in such films as The Fan, in which a gay fan (Robert De Niro) stalks a gay superstar athlete (Wesley Snipes), or Domino, in which Kiera Knightley is questionably cast as the twink hero.

]]>1thechickywinghttps://misofunny.wordpress.com2010-01-03T21:20:11Z2009-12-28T18:12:42ZOk ok, so I, the great Chicky Wing, don’t actually have real testicles (like the ones they make babies with). But that doesn’t stop me from telling poeple to “sucking them!”

As mantras go, this one is reliable. The key is in the poor grammar. “Suck my balls” is too accusatory, and should things go awry, the passive “sucking” can help cover your tracks. Ex.: “Oh, who is sucking my balls, you ask? Why not you, of course, officer.”

But I digress.

Feeling limited by the fact that only a handful of people are usually around to witness my public shamings and derisions, I invented the Internet, then blogging, and then my chef d’oeuvre Miso Funny.

I like to think of Miso Funny as a megaphone – a giant megaphone emitting a constant and resounding “SUCKING MY BALLS!,” with a built-in, state of the art You-Deserve-My-Contempt Radar, for honing in on people, things and ideas that most sorely need to be pummeled by my furious, fist-like words into the back alley chinatown dumpster that is public disgrace.

]]>0thechickywinghttps://misofunny.wordpress.comhttp://misofunny.wordpress.com/2009/12/28/6/2009-12-28T20:41:17Z2009-12-28T20:08:27ZSo, rewatching my pirated copy of Batman Begins for the tenth time, I thought I was the only person in the world who’d noticed that Christian Bale’s voice was dubbed over by Kathleen Turner in every scene where he appeared in the Batsuit.

Still wondering why Bruce Wayne retains this raspiness when talking to people who already know he’s Batman, and formulating a hypothesis that the suit itself restricts his vocal chords and that the rasp is beyond Batman’s control, I turned to my most famous invention (the Internet) to prove my theory.

I stumbled instead across the harsh truth that I am not the cleverest person in the world and that Simon Pegg, beloved Shawn in Shawn of the Dead, had gotten to Christian Bale before I did. Pegg, you are a worthy rival indeed!

I do however, have a one-up on Pegg; I never made a movie called How to Lose Friends and Alienate People, though I left something sort of like it in the toilet this morning.